


Macho, Macho Man

by jellybeanforest



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anilingus, Bisexuality, Blowjobs, Bottom Yondu Udonta, Conspicuous Performance of Masculinity, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Learning Sexual Preferences Backwards, M/M, Plot told through the Prism of Sex, Porn with tiny amounts of Plot, Pre-Peter Quill, Prostitution, Pushing Sexual Boundaries, Rampant Sexism, Robo-Prostitution, Sexual Harassment, Threesomes, Top Kraglin Obfonteri, Top Yondu Udonta, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism, closeted sexuality, cunninglingus, light homophobia, pure unadulterated smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15427965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeanforest/pseuds/jellybeanforest
Summary: Yondu is the alpha-male captain of the manliest band of space pirates in the Galaxy. With all that ambient testosterone, he couldn’t possibly enjoy bottoming. Nope. No siree.… Until a skinny little slip of a Xandarian makes it his personal mission to show him what he’s been missing.





	1. All the World's a Stage

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: 
> 
> 1) I’m going to level with you. This fic is a departure from what I usually write. The first chapter is pretty tame sex-wise, but make no mistake, it gets worse. It gets so much worse. If that’s not what you’re here for, then yeah… I don’t know why you clicked on this fic after seeing the rating and reading the tags. 
> 
> 2) Kraglin and Yondu’s relationship in this fic is a rolling dumpster fire, so some things are going to happen which are not all fluffy, nice, or healthy, and 
> 
> 3) The title is sung to the melodious tones of the Village People who are themselves caricatures of gay macho fantasy personas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu wants sexual gratification and the respect of his crew. Kraglin wants… Kraglin doesn’t quite know what he wants, but he’s pretty sure the arrangement he has with his boss ain’t it.

Sometimes, Kraglin thinks Cap’n does it just for him, to prove a point.

Yondu presses the prostitute against the second-floor window, her hands bracing on either side of large breasts flattened against the glass as he thrusts hard and rhythmic into her from behind. His eyes downturned and face strained into a mask of concentration, he curves back to suck the neck of the second woman as she runs hands across his glistening pectoral muscles, her face performing a credible mimicry of orgasmic bliss. The pornographic scene plays out in plain view of the crew, accentuated by a backdrop of soft lurid yellow light for the voyeuristic pleasure of anyone on the floor.

Kraglin supposes it’s a bit excessive, hiring two for the night, but Yondu rarely did anything by half-measure. It’s what both repelled and attracted him to the man.

“Baby, do you want to go somewhere a li’l more private so we can get to know each other better?” The Krylorian woman on his lap tilts back to whisper in his ear with a soft nibble and press of her tongue against the lobe. At Kraglin’s affirmative nod, she rises gracefully, pulling him up and forward by the hand towards the back rooms, towards Yondu. He tries not to stare, eyes fixed instead on the small fingers intertwined with his own.

Kraglin thinks her name may be Fleurise or maybe Shora after the dainty pink flower popular in this quadrant. It’s likely not her real name anyway nor will it be the one he moans later when he cums, so it hardly matters. She’s stocky like he prefers, with soft muscles, a pert ass, sparkling red eyes, and pink skin. Blue would have been nice, but after the last few brothels, the other men began to talk and tease about how Obfonteri had a _type_.

Yondu had avoided him for weeks. The message had been clear: Diversify.

“Hey, so… yer like, discreet an’ all, right? That’s part o’ yer services? Ya don’t tell no one shit what happens here,” Kraglin hedges after she closes the door to their private room.

“That’s right; it’s just the two of us here in our own li’l world. Do ya want something special? We offer a wide variety of services.” She observes his fidgety demeanor. A flame patch usually meant a rough night and was charged accordingly, but this one seemed softer, a bit more nervous than his compatriots. That didn’t mean he was due a discount by any means, but perhaps his needs were _unusual_ for someone of his station. “Perhaps the girlfriend experience? Would you like that, baby? I’ll give you a good price.”

Kraglin had to admit, her up-sell was good, delivered with a tone sweet enough to rot his teeth if they weren’t already halfway there.

“None o’ that,” Kraglin declines. He scratches the back of his neck before dropping his head to stare hard at the floor. “I want chu ta… mouth off at me first.”

_So he is one of those…_

“…Okay,” she replies, her voice hardening, as she crosses her arms and stands aloof, “but don’t break nothing, and if you leave visible bruises and abrasions, that’ll be an additional charge. Men know we got other customers, but they don’t like seeing the evidence on our bodies. You’re paying me for the lost business, buddy.”

“I ain’t goin’a beat ya or nothin’. Jus’… cuss an’ order me ‘round, maybe cuff me ‘round the head a bit as ya like, then in the end sort’a let me bend ya over like ya want it, yeah?” Kraglin unbuckles his jumpsuit and shrugs it off his shoulders, still looking away from her. “An’ if ya can kind’a grunt low-like instead’a makin’ those high-pitched moans you lot are so fond of, it would be much ‘ppreciated.”

She nods in the affirmative. It’s not the weirdest request she’d ever gotten, not by a long shot. Some men just had a humiliation kink.

He can feel his cock stiffening at the fantasy. He’s standing in a whorehouse that smells of pussy and sweat poorly masked by floral air fresheners, lights dimmed to set the mood and hide the creases and imperfections of their wares, but he concentrates on that underlying stench of body odor and the smell of his own leathers. In his mind’s eye, he’s back on the Eclector in a similarly dark room and standing before him is a man coarse in body and attitude, the low light glinting off that infuriating smirk and eyes and implant alike shining dark as red rubies.

“Oh, an’ one more thing,” Kraglin says as he drops his pants. “I’m goin’a call ya sir, if that’s okay miss.”

“It won’t cost you extra, baby,” she replies, switching back to her faux-saccharine voice dripping heavy with honey.

“Obfonteri. Call me Obfonteri.”

 

* * *

 

They’re five weeks in to a two-month long haul when Kraglin buries himself balls deep in a yellow recruit named Norvo, while secreted away in a little-used storage closet.

Moaning and hands reaching for purchase amongst the rusted shelving, Norvo shutters, rocking back sweetly against Kraglin’s dick. Kraglin wraps an arm around his chest, bending him backwards to pull his torso close as he nuzzles the other man’s shoulder, wet lips leaving a glistening trail across the blade. He’s glad Norvo’s greasy hair is short. That way, it won’t get caught in his teeth when he leaves his little love bites, a temporary momento of their short time together.

The door glides open, pouring light into the dark narrow room. Startled, Kraglin looks over his shoulder, blinking against the sudden brightness, to find Yondu, an unreadable expression alighting his face.

“Uh…” Norvo begins to disengage from their compromising position, but Kraglin holds him steady, ostensibly to shield his nude lower body from Cap’n’s view.

“…Obfonteri, when yer done ‘ere, report back to me on the comm,” Yondu says flatly before closing the door, leaving them to their privacy.

“Oh shit! That was the Cap’n,” Norvo whispers furiously, pushing away from Kraglin. “He’s goin’a think I’m… that we’re…”

“S’fine. Cap’n knows the crew gits antsy between ports. A li’l fuckin’ among the men is expected now an’ again. Sometimes ya end up on the bottom. Ain’t like we make a habit o’ it.” Kraglin shrugs. “Now, where were we…”

 

* * *

 

Kraglin stands outside Cap’n’s quarters twenty minutes later. He’s not nervous per se but rather a bit uncertain about Yondu’s reaction. Cap’n has no cause to complain, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a little miffed. Their arrangement for the last six months had never included exclusivity, damn near required the lack of it, in fact. Still–

Kraglin presses his palm to the access panel, activating the smooth slide of the door, revealing Yondu lounging in a chair facing him, legs spread apart, chin resting lightly against curled fingers and a slight smile dancing across his lips. His pants are rumpled in a pile at his feet. Kraglin quickly crosses the threshold, the exit automatically closing behind him.

He doesn’t say anything as he kneels between Yondu’s legs, taking his semi-erect dick in hand, stroking it to stiffened interest. He wraps his lips around the head, languidly sliding down, up, and back again, his tongue lavishing the shaft and head with wet tactile attention. His hands splay across Yondu’s inner thighs before his right travels lower to lightly cup his balls then further back to fondle his perineum. He watches Yondu’s face when his saliva-slickened thumb ghosts over his anus to rub and tease the outer rim. When Yondu tenses, Kraglin backs off, kneading his buttocks instead, then retreats under his shirt to caress his lower abdomen, tracing the outline of his ruined pouch and scars, the provenance of which Yondu refused to share. Kraglin can feel his Cap’n’s body relax into a boneless slump as he hunches forward to loom over him.

“So, yer fuckin’ Norvo now?” Yondu asks nonchalantly, panting slightly, the fingers of his right hand idly running through the short hairs of Kraglin’s scalp.

From between his thighs, Kraglin manages a small shrug before sliding Yondu's dick out from his mouth with a slick pop, swirling his nimble tongue under the base of the head.

“Why? You jealous?” He murmurs before slipping his mouth back over and down the shaft, giving it a light pump on the upswing.

Yondu frowns at that as he twists his hand into Kraglin’s Mohawk and pushes his head down with more force than is necessary. Kraglin parts his lips further to allow Yondu a couple rough thrusts inside his mouth. Unprepared, he chokes at the intrusion and reflexively squeezes the other man’s knee. Yondu lets go immediately, allowing Kraglin to draw back a bit and set the pace himself. He doesn’t say shit nor does he retaliate when Kraglin’s nails bite hard and angry into his inner thigh, instead lightly hissing at the intimate pain while rubbing fingertips in comforting circles on the back of Kraglin’s head in silent apology.

Kraglin slides the flat of his tongue up the underside of his dick, dragging his lips after, and Yondu reclines back again, eyes rolled and half-lidded, as Kraglin continues his oral ministrations. When he cums, Yondu gasps, his muscles bunching and toes curling. Kraglin even thinks he hears his first name spoken breathy as a prayer when he swallows.

He sits back on his haunches, wiping his slack mouth of saliva and residual cum with a slow swipe of his wrist. Yondu stands to pull on and fasten his pants, and steps around Kraglin to drop heavily onto his bed.

“Unzip an’ come up ‘ere,” he says, patting the spot on the mattress next to him. Kraglin has done this long enough to know it’s not an order but rather a request. He obeys anyway, freeing his erection before taking his seat next to Yondu.

There are rules to this arrangement. When they are alone like this, sequestered in Cap’n’s quarters, only one of them may touch the other at a time with the sole purpose being a fulfillment of their sexual needs. No mutual masturbation or excessive touching, much less traditional sex or kissing, is allowed. After all, this arrangement is simply about basic physiological requirements, not anything as unnecessary as emotional connectivity.

Yondu retrieves a tube of slick from the bedside drawer, pops off the top and squeezes a dollop into his hand, rubbing it warm before gently gripping Kraglin’s cock by the base and sliding his hand up and down the shaft with a light pressure. He varies the speed of his strokes, occasionally dipping his fingers down at the base to caress Kraglin’s balls.

Yondu doesn’t apologize – he never does – but this time, he’s staring directly into Kraglin’s face, gauging the effect of small changes in grip position, speed, and pressure on the man, and when he unexpectedly brushes his other hand against his cheek, Kraglin comes undone. The rare show of intimacy and thoughtfulness overwhelms him, and he unwisely leans over to rest his hot face panting into the hollow of Yondu’s neck. Instead of shrugging him off with a scowl, Yondu lets him stay, the bristly hairs of Kraglin’s head itching his chin.

When Kraglin cums in voluminous spurts and a low moan, Yondu pumps through his climax then releases, letting his cock fall limp and leaking as it slowly recedes to its normal size. Kraglin draws back, sitting slouched over his flagging dick, contemplating the meaning of his Cap’n’s actions. It was new; it was taboo, but he had reached out to him first, hadn’t he?

Yondu scoots away from Kraglin, and bends down to pick up a scrap of cloth off the floor.

“Happy?” Yondu asks, meticulously wiping Kraglin’s cum on the discarded rag with care he’d never shown for other stains and spills. He doesn’t look at Kraglin, concentrating instead on scrubbing his fingers as clean as he can.

Kraglin is silent, then: “Yer a right asshole, ya know that, Cap’n? I don’t know why we do this.” He stands, angrily stuffing his flaccid dick back in his pants, his face red with embarrassment. For a moment there, he had thought–

“’Cause men got needs, an’ it’s the best we’ve got between ports,” Yondu answers nonchalantly, tossing the used cloth into the trash bin for incineration.

_Of course._

“That the only reason?”

“Ya got another, Obfonteri?”

“No sir,” Kraglin’s voice is hard. “Jus’ counting down the days ‘til we hit Contraxia.”

“Now that right there is some fine pussy. Don’t even need ta listen to ‘em yap after. Jus’ let ‘em power down. I wish real partners came with an off-switch sometime,” Yondu ruminates, settling into bed with a yawn. “Ya know what I’m sayin’?”

Kraglin glares at him, eyes narrowed and lips thinned. “Perfectly, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, it might not seem like it, but this blowjob scene took actual effort. I actually looked up how to write one without sounding completely ridiculous. So, leave me a comment to give me some pointers on how dicks work, or to let me know how sorry you are that I think that’s what happens in oral sex, or maybe to tell me I should quit my day job and write gay romance novels from now on because I’m just that awesome. I’m open to all feedback.


	2. And All the Men and Women Merely Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their untenable situation comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, because Name1 asked for it special last chapter, I’ve decided to expand this to five, maybe six, chapters. (Yes, here I go with my bullshit of adding more chapters.) That means more nasty anything-but-butt-sex but slightly slower-burn relationship because you all deserve it. Also, Kraglin was nice to the real-person prostitute last chapter. Please keep in mind that this chapter includes a bot, so… neither Kraglin nor Yondu are nearly as considerate, but at least the hooker they share isn’t real. Kraglin also does some sexual things (no anal) without first consulting Yondu, which might be construed as dubious consent, especially considering the nature of their arrangement up to this point.

The next day, Kraglin spots Norvo approaching from the opposite direction.

“Hey Norvo, shift break comin’ up. Want’a go to one o’ the outer pods fer a smoke?” He offers, holding up a pack of huffer cigs between thumb and middle and tapping the top with his index finger.

“Git the fuck away from me, Obfonteri,” Norvo replies, pushing past him.

“What’s with you?” Kraglin asks in surprise as he makes way for the other man. He can’t possibly still be upset about getting caught out by Cap’n. Kraglin reckons that’s what he gets for messing around with insecure rookies. When Norvo declines to answer, instead stopping to cross his arms in irritation, Kraglin knuckles his bicep. “Hey, we not on a first name basis no more?”

“Fuck no. ’Cause o’ you, I got Cap’n ridin’ my ass.” Norvo’s tone is low but furious.

“…Fun.”

“No, not fun, you fucker.” He balls his fists but restrains himself from punching the other man. “He put me on latrine duty indefinitely. I ain’t even scheduled fer shore leave fer a good five months.”

Kraglin sighs and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Look, ya want I should talk to Cap’n fer ya… maybe reason with him a li’l.”

Norvo slaps off the light contact.

“Have ya not heard a word I said, or are ya jus’ that dense, Obfonteri? He already thinks I’m less of a man ‘cause o’ what he saw. I ain’t havin’ ya fight my battles fer me, like I’m yer woman or some shit.” Norvo declares before walking away to fume in peace.

“Suit yerself,” Kraglin calls out to his retreating back.

Later, during his smoke break, Kraglin mulls over the implications of Norvo’s punishment. It could be a coincidence, a fluke, but the easier, more straight-forward explanation was simple jealousy. If he is correct in his assertion, then what did that mean for his arrangement with Cap’n, much less his own sex life for that matter? It’s not like he can have an open, honest conversation with Yondu to discuss _sentiment_ of all things. That would be ludicrous. He’d laugh himself off the Eclector, if Yondu didn’t opt to punt him out an airlock himself first. No, he’d just have to ponder the issue, alone, and ultimately figure out the proper course of action. Kraglin smashes the remains of his huffer cig in an ashtray, taking the extra seconds to grind it down to a tiny stub, before heading back towards the Bridge.

He spends the rest of his shift mechanically going through the motions at his Nav console, thoughts of Norvo still niggling at the back of his mind. And when the crew finally files out for evening mess, Kraglin stays behind, approaching Yondu, who leans back in his Cap’n’s chair in relaxed repose, eyes closed and fingertips splayed to massage the side of his head.

Kraglin had told himself and Norvo he wouldn’t, but he just can’t let it slide. “Are ya that petty, sir?”

“Hm?”

“Norvo,” he clarifies.

“What about ‘im?” Yondu doesn’t look at him, so Kraglin steps into his line of vision.

“Cut the bullshit. I know ya put ‘im on scrubs ‘cause I fucked ‘im.”

“Don’t flatter yerself, Obfonteri. Not that I haf’ta explain shit to you, but I put him on scrubs ‘cause he’s new. Hasn’t paid his dues yet.”

It’s not a bad excuse, except for one detail.

“No shore leave fer five months?” Kraglin crosses his arms, clearly unconvinced.

“We’re short-staffed,” Yondu looks him square in the eye. “Not everythin’ is ‘bout where ya choose to stick yer dick. I told ya at the start that ya wouldn’t be gittin’ treated special, an’ the same goes fer yer li’l boyfriend. Some o’ us can separate business an’ pleasure.”

“He ain’t my boyfriend,” Kraglin states, firmly. “It was jus’ a one-off, to let off some steam.”

“Thought that’s what our arrangement was for,” Yondu quips.

“So this _is_ about us fuckin’.” He closes his eyes and palms his face then inhales sharply before turning towards Yondu. “Cap’n, that ain’t right. He didn’t do shit, an’ I got–” _needs,_ he doesn’t want to say, and even more damning, not all of them are sexual. He can’t tell Yondu that, but if he continues with their arrangement, he’ll never be able to have what he truly wants. “You know what? This is bullshit. I’m out. I’m done.”

“You ain’t done,” Yondu says as he pointedly flips on his datapad and scrolls through the list of upcoming job assignments, feigning boredom with their conversation.

His flippant attitude only serves to infuriate Kraglin further. “Yeah. I am. What’re ya goin’a do to stop me? Force me to strip at arrowpoint? Brig me ‘til I blow ya? Keep Norvo hostage? ‘Cause I’m tellin’ ya right now, I don’t like the guy near enough to do shit I don’t want’a.”

With that, Kraglin stalks off. From the corner of his eye, Yondu watches him leave, his mouth downturned into a slight frown. _He’ll be back,_ he thinks. Kraglin always came back.

Kraglin doesn’t come back.

“I meant what I said, Cap’n,” he declines Yondu’s advances during their next ‘strategy meeting’ two days later. They spend the next hour looking over supply orders and fuel efficiency reports instead, much to the latter’s rising sexual frustration.

“I said no more,” Kraglin bats away Yondu’s sly attempt to covertly rub up against his crotch during their following meeting.

And so it is with the next meeting and the next. Kraglin feels a sick sort of satisfaction with each subsequent rejection. However, by the fifth meeting three weeks after their falling-out, Yondu no longer propositions him, instead seemingly accepting his decision and focusing on the task at hand. He supposes it’s a victory of sorts, yet–

Kraglin is unsure whether he’s relieved or disappointed at the change.

 

* * *

 

By the time they dock at Contraxia, the crew is practically itching for a break. Kraglin bundles up in his warmest undergarments and leathers then heads out with Cap’n and the first shift towards the nearest brothel along the seedy main strip. He’s in the middle of selecting one of the svelte yellow female models when Yondu and his posse of three hired bots approach him.

“Obfonteri did a good job on that Briul job awhile back. I reckon he deserves a li’l reward, eh boys?” Yondu announces to less-than-enthusiastic cheers and murmurs of the assembled crew. That job had been a month prior and not particularly large nor especially profitable.

“So Obfonteri, what say you an’ me share these three lovely ladies fer the night? My treat,” Yondu offers generously, both arms casually draped across the shoulders of two Contraxian bots, one on each side, who in turn are lightly massaging his chest and lower abdomen while a third huddles in to caress his cheek.

“Hey babycakes, why don’t chu go an’ make our guest feel welcome?” he tells the third, indicating Kraglin with a subtle tip of his chin. “Go on now. Git.”

At his command, she saunters over to curl up into Kraglin, her hand idly tracing the bulge of his groin.

Kraglin suspects an ulterior motive, but he’s not about to turn down free sex.

“Well… I wouldn’t want’a disappoint the lady, sir.”

 

* * *

 

The night starts off conventionally enough.

Kraglin bends his mechanical lady of the evening over the single arm of the chaise lounge, driving deeply into her wet cunt. It’s usually enough to hold his attention, but he finds himself distracted by Yondu across the room, standing over his own two bots writhing together on the bed while he thrusts into the lower one. The trio is positioned in such a way to expose all three in profile to Kraglin’s view.

“You don’t haf’ta do that, ya know,” Kraglin says. He slows, prompting his bot to speed up, rocking against him from below.

“Do what now?” Yondu asks through grit teeth.

“Perform fer me.”

“Ain’t a performance, boy,” Yondu insists. He’s still not looking at Kraglin, his gaze facing downward to watch his own dick pump in and out of the bot’s pussy at a punishing pace. “This’s just how I like ta fuck. These bots can take it rough, an’ I aim ta git my money’s worth.”

Kraglin stops, turning the hooker bot over to face her. Her pelvis tilted skywards over the armrest, he penetrates her ass slow and shallow, holding her crooked legs up so she can’t alter their pace and finish him prematurely. “They can also suck a man dry better’n most. Don’t chu want’a switch it up a bit? Lay back an’ try out one o’ their other holes?”

Yondu supposes he has a fair point. He withdraws from the bot, orders them both to move over with a light slap on the ass, and lies back on the bed propped up on his elbows with his legs spread and hanging over the edge. Sensing his change in position, one of the bots cuddles in next to Yondu to sensuously rub against his groin and inner thigh, attempting to entice him to roll over on top of her and continue. Before she is successful, Kraglin leads his own bot by the small of her back towards Yondu, ordering her to go down on his Cap’n while raising her ass up and legs apart so he can simultaneously fuck her synthetic cunt.

Yondu rakes his fingers through the bot’s lavender hair, tucking it behind her ear to get a better view of her tongue licking up his shaft from base to tip before engulfing his member in that smooth velvety mouth coated in water-based lubrication. He tries to thrust roughly into her mouth, keeping his earlier pace. However, it’s internally ridged to optimize sensation and pulses and vibrates over his cock. He gasps, his limbs liquifying into jelly as he falls flat on his back and arches prettily, unable to do more than helplessly offer up his groin, pushing deeper within her mouth.

Kraglin reckons he’s never seen a more-gorgeous sight than Yondu losing control. Watching his Cap’n reduced to a mewling mess, he grips the bot’s hips harder as he thrusts into her from behind. It’s not enough. He wants to get closer, to touch Yondu, to feel him twitch and shutter against his body when he cums. 

He leans over the bot’s back, whispering his commands low into her ear then withdraws from her entirely. She slips Yondu’s dick out of her mouth, sloppily kissing a trail up his belly before climbing on top and sliding her pussy down onto his moistened erection. Yondu’s brow furrows in displeasure at Kraglin over the bot’s shoulder, but before Yondu can complain about the change in position, Kraglin has already settled behind the bot, dick in hand, slowly pushing in just above Yondu’s member. It’s a tight squeeze, but the bot, designed to accommodate all manner of genital diversity, adjusts easily to the incremental intrusion, moaning to simulate erotic pleasure as she releases more lubrication from her inner folds to ease Kraglin’s addition.

Once inside, Kraglin thrusts slowly, experimentally, testing the slippery friction of his lubricated cock trapped against Yondu’s own, feeling his length glide wet and hot against the other held still. They’ve never touched like this, never been this close, but perhaps it was acceptable under the circumstances. When two men share the same whore, a certain amount of touching is to be expected. He glances over to check Yondu’s reaction, which appears tenuous, uncertain, but definitely not murderous. He leans into the bot, planting an arm on either side of Yondu to pick up the pace. When Yondu tentatively responds back in kind, rocking into the shared orifice from below, Kraglin grasps his ass in one hand, pushing and pulling in rolling waves to amplify the motion.

Kraglin can feel Yondu getting close, can see the sweat gathering on his forehead, his breath quickening and eyes dilated so large they’re practically black. He focuses on Yondu’s parted mouth, and before he can stop himself, he dips down over the bot’s shoulder to softly brush his lips against Yondu’s before deepening into a kiss. Caught in the moment, Yondu’s hands snake out from under the bot’s arms to embrace Kraglin’s back and pull him close, sandwiching the bot between them. He gasps into Kraglin’s mouth and rides out the last spasms of his orgasm through jerky thrusts.

Yondu’s grip slackens, and Kraglin can feel the other man’s cock recede to flaccidity. He withdraws his own erection, flipping the bot onto her back next to Yondu. He kneels between her legs, and locking eyes with his Cap’n, he places his mouth over her dripping cunt and slowly licks the mixture of lube and cum leaking out with a broad tongue. As he works, lapping over synthetic folds and inside, he slowly strokes his dick but holds off his own orgasm.

Once satisfied, he wipes his chin and stands to insert his still-erect cock into the bot’s welcoming ass to her encouraging moans. He doesn’t last long, only a couple thrusts, before he cums as well.

When Kraglin finally dismounts to lie on the side of the bot opposite Yondu, he exhales loudly into the silence.

“An’ _that_ is how ya git yer money’s worth… sir." **  
**


	3. They Have Their Exits and Their Entrances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin pushes Yondu's boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In some hotel rooms, there is something called a communicating door, which is a pair of doors on the same frame between two adjacent rooms that can be unlocked and opened on both sides to create a passageway between both rooms. Both rooms have to unlock and open their communicating door for this to be used.

By the following day, Kraglin concludes that the crew of the Eclector is no better than a cabal of gossiping fishwives: inconveniently nosy, unnecessarily chatty, and prone to wild conjecture based on very little evidence.

“Ya think Cap’n turned him out?”

“Obfonteri ain’t walkin’ funny.”

“Well, what ‘bout…?”

“Naw. Cap’n ain’t bendin’ o’er fer no man, much less that skinny git.”

A sharp whistle silences the less-discreet recruits who fail to modulate their opinions within Yondu’s earshot, and by evening mess the following day, no one openly speculates about the possible scandal brewing between captain and underling. It was one thing to mess around with another man between ports – driven to sexual desperation, everyone gave in at one time or another – but to do so in a brothel with plentiful women and pleasure-bots available to any man with credits to his name… now that was unusual, downright deviant really. No matter… it was an anomaly. Whatever had transpired was unlikely to repeat itself, and it wasn’t worth the trouble speculating what, if anything, had probably-almost-definitely occurred between the two.

Kraglin doesn’t put too much stock in the rumor mill. The men will talk and then move on to the new topic-of-the-hour when some green recruit invariably tries to stick his dick in an M-ship pipe just to see if it will fit and gets stuck. For a group of supposedly-female-attracted men, the attention span of the crew is surprisingly short and easily distracted by any new occurrence that hilariously (or tragically) featured someone’s dick.

Unfortunately, Yondu is not as easily convinced of the ephemeral nature of the crew’s memory.

“What do ya think yer doin’, Obfonteri?” Yondu challenges him at their next strategy meeting when Kraglin had placed a bold hand on his knee sliding down to his inner thigh.

“Just thought you could do with a li’l stress relief is all,” Kraglin had responded, pausing in his groin-ward trajectory to soothe the tender skin halfway to his desired destination through the man’s leathers.

Yondu pointedly relocates Kraglin’s hand back to his own lap then gives Kraglin a dismissive sneer. “Ain’t been that long since yer last fuck on Contraxia. You ain’t goin’ soft on me, right Obfonteri?”

Kraglin frowns. “Course not, sir.”

“Good.”

Kraglin diverts his attention back to star charts and spreadsheets for the rest of the evening, and when he leaves that night, Yondu doesn’t even spare a glance in his direction.

Kraglin gets it; truly, he does. Yondu’s position at the top of the Eclector’s hierarchy is more restrictive than his own. From an outsider’s perspective, Cap’n can do whatever he pleases… as long as it made a shit-ton of credits, projected a narrowly-defined acceptable image of cruel invincibility, and earned the respect of his men, that is. In short, Captain Yondu Udonta had a certain reputation to uphold, and this, unfortunately, extended to his sex life.

It’s an unwritten law of piracy: No one fucks over the Captain, in any sense of the word.  

Really, Kraglin had been incredibly naive to hope it could ever be different, he thinks when he masturbates alone in Shower Block 6C to thoughts of blue skin stretched tight and throbbing around his dick. After he cums in spurts against the tiled walls, he feels empty, unsatisfied. It’s only an unattainable, unspeakable fantasy. He turns the detachable showerhead towards the evidence of his inappropriate attraction to wash it away.

And so it is that when Yondu ignores him at the next bot brothel two weeks later, Kraglin is disappointed but not surprised. The prior occurrence was just a one-time thing… Cap’n’s way of making it up to him after the whole Norvo incident.

He follows his chosen bot to their pre-assigned room for the evening but is perplexed when the ambience is a touch nicer than he recalls paying for, with a real bed large enough to sleep three, plush decorative pillows carefully-arranged over the top third, and an almost imperceptible scent of florals absent the underlying musky stench of past sexual congress and huffer cigs. There’s a door leading to the bathroom on one side and a locked communicating door just beyond it.

It’s a classy joint. The Madame must have made a mistake with the booking, but he’s not complaining.

Spotting a no-smoking sign, Kraglin takes the half-empty pack from his pocket, tapping out a huffer cig to place in his mouth. Looking over at his robotic companion lounging alluringly over the foot of the bed, he asks, “Mind if I smoke?” before lighting up anyway. When he doesn’t find an ashtray, he flicks his ashes into the shitter, not wanting to test the flammability of the expensive rug before he has a chance to get off.

Speaking of which… Kraglin draws closer to the bot still perched on the foot of the bed, awaiting further instruction, when he hears a medley of knocks coming from the locked side door. It’s the first half of a common beat, just missing the final thud.

Curious, he cautiously approaches the side door leading to the adjacent room, unlocking then sweeping it inward to reveal Yondu on the other side, wearing nothing but a smug look on his face, one arm around his own selected bot.

Yondu reaches across the threshold, bunching his fist into Kraglin’s jumpsuit before pulling him closer. “Would chu like ta join me an’ the li’l lady, eh Obfonteri?”

Speechless, Kraglin visibly gulps then shakes his head in the affirmative as he steps forward, still hesitant, uncertain.

“Alrigh’, now git up in there, Darlin’?” Yondu tells his bot, slapping her ass for good measure. She slinks forward, rising up on tip-toe to kiss Kraglin deeply as she unzips his front to dip inside and smooth her hands across his chest outwards, slipping his jumpsuit off his body. Yondu stands behind her, sliding two fingers into her cunt to test the stretch, activating the lubrication mechanism at his intrusion.

She moves down to suck the pulse point on his neck after Kraglin breaks the kiss to address Yondu over her head: “Hey, I’ve always wanted ta try somethin’…”

When the trio makes their way to the bed, Kraglin lies down, head almost over the foot of the bed while the bot mounts him upside down. Her lips slide over his dick, engulfing it in soft warm wetness. From behind her, Yondu lines up, pushing into her cunt as Kraglin watches from below. He thrusts into her, quickly, forcefully, the yellow synthetic flesh pulling on his dick on the withdrawal and squelching on insertion.  She moans loudly as her breasts bounce against Kraglin’s stomach, her erect nipply tips grazing his lower abdomen. Once again, Yondu fucks her like he is putting on an intimate performance for the other man, but this time, Kraglin lifts his head up to lick their joining, swirling his tongue over Yondu’s soft balls before straining up towards his perineum. He senses Yondu’s knees buckle slightly at the unexpected contact, and Yondu lets out a groan as he grips the bot’s hips tighter and pumps into her slower, slightly incapacitated. Encouraged, Kraglin shimmies up further to trace his tongue around the rim of Yondu’s tight pucker while he encapsulates Yondu’s hips from the sides to massage his ass, squeezing it in wide circles.

Yondu moans, leaning forward heavily against the bot’s back. However, when Kraglin’s finger joins his tongue to tease the sensitized border of his asshole, Yondu dismounts his face, flipping onto his back to land next to both Kraglin and the still-bent-over prostitute. He plants his feet on the edge of the bed, his crooked knees raised to the ceiling, as he tries to catch his breath. However, programmed to please her primary user, his bot promptly rises to mount Yondu’s erection, splaying fingers against his chest for leverage as she rides his cock, her face contorted into simulated bliss.

Kraglin slides off the bed, standing in front of Yondu’s raised knees. With his legs bent and spread and his torso pinned down by the bot, this position allows Kraglin access to the man’s lower body. He takes advantage of Yondu’s prone position to knead his Cap’n’s inner thighs, trailing down to massage his ass, spreading the cheeks to gaze at his tight navy pucker. Leaving his left hand to rub circles in the firm muscle of Yondu’s backside and hold it slightly open, Kraglin grasps his dick in his right, keeping it close to Yondu’s ass as he masturbates. His grip tightening around his aching erection, he imagines his hand is an entirely different place altogether, hot and constricted, pulsing around his cock in roiling pleasure.

Yondu freezes, propping himself up on his elbows to peer around the moaning bot still riding his dick.

“What’re ya doin’ down there.” It’s not a question.

“It’s alrigh’, sir. I ain’t goin’a put it in or nothin’; I just… want’a rub it a li’l, yeah? Swear I won’t go in,” Kraglin pleads as he pumps his weeping erection, his knuckles just glancing Yondu’s perineum.

“…Alright,” Yondu pants out after a tense moment of deliberation, dropping back down. “But no goin’ in. I ain’t no woman.”

Kraglin doesn’t have to be told twice. He lines up his dick and smears the bead of precum on Yondu’s hole, rubbing the tip teasingly against his entrance. The slippery feel of skin against skin, the knowledge of how close he is to being inside Yondu… It feels so much better… except in all the ways it’s worse. His desire to penetrate the slickened orifice becomes infinitely more acute, the intensity of that urge to plunge in despite his promise terrifying in its own right, but he had assured Yondu he wouldn’t. He angles the head of his dick down, so when he thrusts, it simply glides between his cheeks towards the bed.

He’s caught off guard when Yondu answers his thrusts with his own, rhythmically grinding up against the dick sliding past his asshole. Neither says anything when Yondu cums into the bot not too long after, nor when he stays, lying prone on his back, legs bent on either side of Kraglin, long after the bot has climbed off his body to power down beside him. Kraglin wordlessly reprises his dick in his right hand, stroking it while his blunt left thumb firmly rubs Yondu’s still-virginal pucker. His breath hitches when he cums in spurts, splashing the constricted hole with a white sticky coating.

Yondu’s knees drop and brace against the edge of the bed to quickly sit up, arms swinging towards his subordinate. Kraglin supposes he deserves it and squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation of the blows. However, instead of fists, Yondu’s mouth crashes clumsily, painfully, against his own as he squeezes Kraglin against him in a crush of limbs. He falls backwards onto the bed, taking Kraglin with him.

Recovering from his initial surprise, Kraglin softens their kiss, breaking the seal of their mouths to tangle his tongue with Yondu’s as each explores the other’s naked skin with roaming hands, smoothing over new territory and old scars alike. His mouth leaves his swollen lips to trail downwards to the hollow of Yondu’s neck where he gently bites and sucks blue skin between his teeth and grabs Yondu’s ass to press his lower body tight against his abdomen, rocking him deep into the mattress.

When Kraglin feels Yondu’s erection growing against his stomach, his own rises to match, and he takes them in one hand, using his long fingers to hold them together as he pumps both towards their second climax of the night. They lay in bed after, their breathing slowing to normal.

Perhaps they should talk about this, Kraglin thinks idly, but when Yondu closes his eyes and drapes one arm across his chest, he thinks better of it. For just one night, he can pretend, just like Yondu is pretending to be asleep right now.

And just like Yondu will eventually start to snore and drool a bit out of the corner of his mouth, maybe one day, Kraglin’s own pretense will become reality.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I ashamed I wrote this? Yes, deeply ashamed. Now, please prove that it’s worth it by leaving me some of that sweet feedback.


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